19 seconds ago
Subscribers
00272 # smoking heavily with the car windows closed
My daughter can never find a parking spot here in Rome. And when she gets tired, she double-parks the car. We Italians are a creative people. I stay here in case she needs to be moved. Cars whiz by sideways and all that exhaust fumes bother my nostrils, so I decide to roll up the car windows and change the air in the cabin with a sumptuous smoke. People pass by, seeing me locked in here smoking without understanding why I do it. It's amusing to be alternative in this world of subnormals. But I persist with my performance and I don't care about anything: great light-ups, snap inhale, ghost inhale, cone exhale, nose exhale, multiple pumps. The cabin fills with smoke pretty quickly, and I really like it. I'm surrounded by puzzled looks, but these fucking suburbanites don't understand my poetry. They're screwing their lungs even more than I am, standing out there with all that exhaust fumes. While I breathe in the nature of my red tobacco. Call the Venice Biennale! This is an artistic performance with profound environmental significance. I breathe in cigarette smoke deeply, which is decidedly healthy compared to the polluting smog of diesel fuel. A few coughs and wheezing are not long in coming. The stagnant smoke inside my car thickens in layer upon layer. The sun peeks out and illuminates this living canvas. I want to choose how to pollute myself. I demand my self-determination. I pollute myself with my cigarette smoke: full-bodied, dense, thick, passive, but I do it with nature's tobacco, not with the burned gasoline of engines.
Film by Roxana Marlb Productions (length: 3'45" - aspect and pixel ratio: 9/16; 1080x1920)
...
Film by Roxana Marlb Productions (length: 3'45" - aspect and pixel ratio: 9/16; 1080x1920)
...
Post
